


welcome home

by apollonian



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dogs, Fluff, Gen, and an assortment of dog related feelings, because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:30:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollonian/pseuds/apollonian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, the one in which Derek gets a dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	welcome home

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this just before Valentine's Day (and so the full moon) ends, so please point out any errors (and enjoy)!

Derek didn’t mean to get a dog. No, really, he walked into Deaton’s office on a sunny Sunday morning to borrow one of his books: he’d wanted to look up some information about vampires, since there were rumors about a coven making trouble near San Francisco.

Deaton was, for once, actually doing his job and talking with the distraught owner of a sick cat – Derek could smell the faint stink of vomit from the waiting room. Deciding to wait for Deaton to finish up, he had loitered around the empty room for a while, taking in the noises of various animals in the back room. 

After fifteen minutes, Deaton had peered out of the examination room and said, “Sorry, Derek, looks like it’s going to take some more time with Mr. Cohen. You’re welcome to wait if you want, or come back later.”

Derek had sighed, shrugged, and gone to the back room to take a quick look on the animals. Ever since he’d become a fairly regular visitor to Deaton’s office, he’d picked up the habit of going around and checking in on the dogs, cats, and other various species that were living temporarily in the back, until their owners picked them up, they were donated to a shelter, or someone adopted them.

That morning, the usual crowd had been quite thin. Mrs. Smith’s two dogs had gone back home, as had the Coopers’ irritable cat. The Barton gerbil was still there, but it was sleeping, so Derek hadn’t bothered it. Instead, he’d walked over to the end of the room, towards the larger enclosures, where he’d spotted a new face – a medium sized dog, with beautiful chestnut fur. The dog had been curled up, but when it spotted Derek, it had leapt up, tail wagging, tongue lolling, and eyes bright, and Derek – well, after the initial scenting from both dog and werewolf, he’d crouched down and given in to the urge to run his hands through the dog’s silky fur through the bars of the enclosure, enjoying the way he could practically smell the contentment rolling off of it in waves.

That was where Deaton had found him, twenty minutes later. Noticing Derek’s reluctance to stop petting the dog, he had then shanghaied him into taking the dog – Laura, Deaton said, that was her name, and wasn’t that a strange coincidence, his Laura’s wolf form had had a red coat too – home with him.

“She’ll be good for you, Derek,” Deaton told him as Derek was filling out forms. “She’s a perfectly healthy three year old Irish setter, very friendly, and house-trained. Her previous owners loved her, but they had to move and there were some complications, so they couldn’t keep her.”

Derek hummed in acknowledgement as he handed over the stack of completed forms over to Deaton, in exchange for a bag of dog food, a red collar and leash, and a set of dog bowls and toys.

It was only when he was already driving home to the loft, with Laura sitting in the backseat, nose pressed to the half-open window and his new possessions in the trunk, that he realized he’d forgotten to ask Deaton about the book. He shrugged to himself peaceably. He could always go get it later, and anyway, the coven was still quite a while away from Beacon Hills. It could wait. 

* * *

Laura seemed to like the open areas of the loft. Derek had gotten a contractor to fix up the giant hole in the wall, but he still hadn’t furnished the place beyond the bare necessities, so there was plenty of space for Laura to explore and run around in.

He’d set up the bowl of water in the kitchen, next to the doorway. Deaton had told him to feed her thrice a day – setters apparently were very energetic and burnt a lot of energy, and she’d already gotten her breakfast, so lunch would be later.

After Laura had finished examining every inch of the loft, she’d come and laid down right on his feet as he researched Irish setters. Her comfortable weight, the sensation of having another living being in the loft with him, one which had liked him on sight and had adapted surprisingly quickly to a new environment despite the breed’s notorious separation anxiety, made a warm feeling rise in his chest. He sunk down into the couch and let the warmth wash over him, stroking Laura’s back with his foot. He hadn’t felt this way for a long, long time, and he intended to enjoy every moment of it.

* * *

After both of their lunches, Derek had decided to take a nap. He’d moved his huge bed upstairs, and the sun-warmed sheets and ultra-comfortable new mattress called to him like a siren. 

Once he was in bed, though, he’d heard Laura come up the stairs, nails clacking along the wood floors. She’d hesitated at the foot of his bed, looking the most uncertain he’d ever seen her, until he patted the space next to him. She immediately got the idea, jumping onto the bed and padding over to him. She settled down next to him, back to his chest, and Derek fell asleep between one breath and the next, his hand on her warm flank, still stroking back and forth, back and forth. 

He woke up slowly at around four o’clock, to a mass text from Stiles reminding everyone that there was a pack meeting at seven, at the loft. His movements jostled Laura awake too, and she shook herself from head to tail before jumping down from the bed and heading downstairs.

He followed her down, getting a glass of water for himself and filling up Laura’s bowl. As he watched her drink, he debated going for a run before the pack came over, finally deciding on driving out to the preserve and running for an hour or so. After scratching Laura’s ears, he went and got dressed for a proper run, and got Laura ready for another car ride.

Laura absolutely loved the track he usually ran in the preserve. He ran alongside her, leash unclipped and rolled up in his hand, at a pace neither too fast nor too slow, just strenuous enough to make him work. Laura pranced from side to side, often stopping to sniff at an interesting flower or poke around a patch of grass, but she always caught up to him, nudging his leg.

Once they got to a big clearing, Derek picked up a stick and played an energetic game of fetch with her, utilizing his werewolf strength to throw the stick as far as possible. Laura ran to and fro from him, eager and barking her approval, ears flying and tail wagging in excitement. His heart panged at the sight, a sudden memory of Laura, his sister Laura, running with the same enthusiasm and joy that this Laura ran with flashing in his mind. He flopped down to the grass, tears pricking behind his eyes, and the familiar roil of guilt and grief gripping his guts. 

Sensing the change in his mood, Laura padded up to him, nosing at his face and sniffing as he buried his hands in her fur. Letting out a little huff, she sat down next to him, and for a few minutes, Derek just let his mind go blank, focusing only on her exertion-quick heartbeat, the soft warmth of her side, and nothing else at all. 

* * *

Derek came back to the loft after his run, tired out but absolutely, positively in love with Laura.

A quick shower later, Laura was digging into her own food while Derek ordered pizza for the pack, their orders now deeply ingrained into his mind. After he’d set out the paper plates and the cups, he settled down in front of the TV to while away time until the pizza and the pack arrived.  

He’d dozed off as some reality show played in the background, but he woke up as he heard the distinctive sounds of the pack’s preferred methods of transport turning into the building’s parking lot. Laura had perked up too, catching on to his changed demeanor, and she raced to the front door as voices and footsteps became louder.

Of course, the first one to barge in the door of the loft was Stiles, with his probably illegally acquired key.          

“H _ey_ , Derek, have you heard about—,” Stiles started to say, stopping abruptly as he spotted Laura. “You have a dog. Why do you have a dog? Oh my god, Derek, you didn’t pick it up from the street, did you, that’s unsafe! And don’t look at me like that, I know all about your secret marshmallow heart of gold.”

“No, Stiles, I didn’t pick her up from the road,” Derek said, walking over as Laura began to sniff Stiles’ feet and legs. Apparently satisfied that he smelled enough like Derek to not count as a threat, she nosed at his head, whuffing in delight when Stiles started petting her, almost unconsciously. “I got her from Deaton, her previous owners had to move and couldn’t keep her anymore.” 

“Awww, Derek, that’s so _cute,_ ” Stiles said, eyes going wide and puppy-like.

“What’s cute?” Scott asked, as he walked in, almost stumbling into Stiles, who was still standing in the open doorway. He looked down at Stiles’ hand on Laura and beamed, one of his patented “Scott McCall is happy for you” looks that Derek had seen more and more over the past few months.

Derek waved them in, and as they flopped onto the couch and the armchairs, the rest of the pack was followed behind. Derek was pleased to see that they’d at least recognized that there was a foreign scent, noses turned up, even if Jackson’s theatrical sniffs were over-the-top.

“Dog!” Erica practically yelled as she caught sight of Laura. “Derek, you got a dog, that’s so cute oh my god, look at you, aren’t you a _beauty,_ ” she cooed as she dropped to her knees and started petting Laura.

Isaac and Lydia rushed to get their hands on Laura, too, who was absolutely basking in the new admirers she’d just found. Jackson and Boyd were standing a little ways off, but they both had smiles on their faces as they picked up on the sense of happiness that had permeated through the loft in the few hours that Laura had been here. 

Derek felt his own grin grow, as the sounds of a home filled with laughter and friends and _pack_ flowed around him. He’d lost this, once, a long time ago, and he’d never thought he’d have it again, never thought he’d deserve to have this again, but now he did, he’d built a new life for himself, and it was the most settled he’d felt in years. Wolves were never meant to be alone, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's how I picture Laura: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a4/19032009_Fritz%26Enya02.jpg  
> http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/4400000/Irish-Setter-irish-setters-4417453-1482-1122.jpg :)


End file.
